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7 - Clean
7:10AM
Justin
The flavor of his come mixed with the sweet chocolate frosting is fucking
phenomenal. I swirl my tongue very carefully over his sensitive dick to clean
up the rest of the sticky mess. He gasps at the contact but lets me continue
until he's clean. I stand up to kiss him, I'll never tire of sharing the way he
tastes.
Brian's taste, the very essence of him, belongs to me. At least, I feel like it
does. Other men, all those other men (less and less in recent months), hold him
on their tongue for a moment, and forget him as soon as they swallow. What's
beautiful and unique and tantalizing about his taste is lost on them. I've had
years to savor it, devour it, memorize it and improve it. He'd kill me if he
knew, but I read an article about how to improve the taste of your come and I
incorporated some of the tips into our diet. Crazy thing was, it worked. Of
course, I did it for him too because I was improving the taste of my own spunk
at the same time, but I didn't want him to freak on me so I didn't tell him
what I was doing.
One day, months after I'd read the book and changed our food and drink intake,
he finally commented on it. After a mind-bending blowjob he looked right up at
me, my come still smeared on his ripe, red lips and said, "Damn, I don't
know how but you just taste better and better." I smiled wide, the
shit-eating grin threatening to reveal my little secret. But he didn't notice
the devilment in my eyes that night. He's still never figured it out. Like I
said, some things belong to me and me alone.
Brian
My knees still weak from coming hard - again, I grip the countertop behind me
to steady myself. I think I finally need some real sleep. Of course, now that
Justin's flicking his tongue over my lips and sharing the chocolate come he
licked off my dick, sleep sounds like such a waste of time.
He leans against me, our bare skin touching everywhere. I love feeling his body
heavy on mine right after I come. Don't know what it is, just that warmth we
radiate, I guess. It's nice.
We stay propped up against the counter for a long minute, just making out like
we're not both drop-dead tired and aching all over. In theory, the idea of 24
hours of birthday sex was fucking great, pardon the pun. The reality of it is a
different story.
I think I'm doing a pretty good job of showing him a decent birthday. I've only
given him his first gift, and it was sex related. In the closet I've stashed a
few more wrapped gifts that I've been holding on to for a while. I'll bring them
out later.
I hate buying gifts for anyone. Going shopping with the express purpose of
buying a gift is the worst kind of torture I know. In an effort to avoid that
debacle I just buy Justin shit when I see something that he’d like, or I’d like
for him. Doesn't matter when it is, I just buy it and hide it in my closet. He
can't really see the top shelves in there and he's not generally a nosey person
so I don't think it would occur to him to snoop around looking for shit. Even
just before his birthday. Of course, there's the fact I don't really 'do'
presents so I doubt he was expecting anything. Maybe that's why I did all of
this. Maybe I'm just finally ready for him to expect things from me.
Justin
We keep making out until I think I might fall asleep leaning against him. I
finally push away from Brian's body and open my eyes. I have to reach out to
hold on to his arms as a dizzy spell passes. Likely that's from sleep
deprivation...and being in love.
He steadies me and smirks a little. "Ah, still make you weak in the
knees." He quietly jokes with me.
"Was there any doubt?" I smile honestly. As I look at him, revealing
how true that statement really is, I see something in his eyes change. When he
cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow, I wonder what’s going on in
that beautifully fucked up mind of his.
"What?" I smile.
"Nothing," he says quietly, bending down to nuzzle my neck. I can
tell he wants to express something but can't be bothered with the words. So
he'll show me. He always shows me.
I bet Brian was one of those kids in grade school who brought little dead
animals for show and tell, letting them rot in his pocket as he waited his
turn. Then he'd plop the poor dead thing down in the middle of the floor, much
to the horror of his classmates and teacher, only to stare at his captive
audience with nothing but defiance in his eyes. And that's Brian - all show and
no tell. If you don't get it, fuck you. Thank God, I get it.
His face resting in the crook of my neck, he breathes in deeply, "Shower,
we stink," he mutters and then pulls away. I immediately pull him back to
me, holding his right hand between mine in a gesture of restraint and
adoration.
"We smell divine," I smile.
He laughs a small laugh and rolls his eyes at me. "I can't sleep with a
sugar-coated dick."
My eyes widen, "Did you say sleep?"
"Maybe,"
he sighs. I see the look of defeat on his face and promise myself that I won't
laugh at his immense disappointment.
"Brian, we need to sleep. We have to sleep. Just for a while. I WANT you
to fuck me all damn day, but I want to be awake for it."
"It's okay if you're not," he gives me a wicked grin as he starts
toward the bedroom.
"It is NOT!" I shriek at his back in a mock-drama queen moment.
He throws another deliciously evil grin over his shoulder. "Then if I were
you I wouldn't pass out first, Sunshine."
I just shake my head and follow him, resigned to the fact this man will be the
end of me - one way or another.
Brian
I walk into the bathroom and start the shower, making the water as hot as
Justin can stand. I need to get the sugar, spit, come, sweat and sappy
sentiments off my body. A nice hot shower and a little rest should do it. I
don't know why I'm so against us sleeping away his birthday, I just am. I'm not
saying all of the plans I have are sane, but I always follow through.
Justin follows me into the bathroom and picks up his toothbrush. I stand behind
him, leaning into him just a little so my dick grazes the crack of his ass, and
watch him in the mirror as he meticulously brushes his teeth. He has this
little pattern, I don't know if he knows that I know, but it's funny as hell.
He can be really anal about that shit. I mean I'm a freak for eye cream and the
right kind of body wash and shit, but when I brush my teeth I brush my teeth. I
don't need to count the number of passes the bristles make over my third molar.
When he's done I turn him around and kiss him, tasting the remnants of
toothpaste and reveling in the cool, minty tingle of his tongue in my mouth. I
think for a moment about how kissing him with my dirty mouth should bother a
boy who just oh-so-carefully cleaned his teeth. But he doesn't seem bothered at
all.
I open the shower door and pull him inside. He giggles because I pull a bit too
hard and we both stumble in. My back hits the wall and his body hits mine. The
loud smack of wet skin on wet skin makes us both grin like 14-year-old fools.
"Ah, hot," he sucks in a sharp breath as the water envelopes him.
"Too hot?" I ask, quickly reaching for the dial.
"No," he smiles to reassure me. He's always making concessions like
that to make me happy. Sometimes it's nice, other times I want to slap him for
bending his own needs to suit mine.
"Shit," I forgot to grab his second present from the closet shelf.
"Whaaa?," he asks as he tilts his head back to soak his hair. The
water cascading down his perfectly pale torso temporarily distracts me.
Sometimes it's a wonder that a person you've been with for so long can actually
grow more attractive as time goes on. I'm not sure how that works, but it works
for me.
He shakes his head and the water droplets fly all over the stall. He smiles and
I smile back.
"Hold on." I get out of the shower and open the closet from the
inside of the bathroom, hoping I'll be able to reach what I want from this
angle.
I see him watching me through the opaque glass and I shake my ass at him as I
reach into the closet. His laugh echoes through the enclosure and I think about
how much I like the sound.
Justin
Brian's being mysterious for the tenth time since the stroke of midnight. I'm
not sure I can handle much more. I squirt his favorite shower gel onto a loofah
and start soaping myself while he fucks around in the closet. Ha, that's a
funny thought, 'fucks around in the closet'.
I see him place a few things on the counter next to the sink before he rejoins
me in the shower. I try to see what the objects are, but they're obscured by
the veil of steam on the glass. When he opens the door his body blocks my view
and he cryptically whispers, "for later." As if that explains
whatever the hell he was just doing.
He takes the loofah from my soapy hands and starts to wash me. I couldn't get
hard again if a gun was pressed to my temple, but this feels really, really
good.
After we've both washed and made out some more (have I mentioned lately that I
fucking love kissing Brian?), he turns the water off and grabs towels for us
from the heated rack. I so love that thing. There's nothing better than
wrapping yourself in a big, fluffy, warm towel after a hot shower.
When we get out, he acts as if he's forgotten about the little set of objects
on the counter. I peer around his body and cock my head at the really pretty
new razor and two little bottles sitting next to it.
"Whassat?" my voice is muffled by the towel as he vigorously dries my
hair.
He takes the towel away and hangs it up, leaving me naked and curious in the
middle of the room. When he walks over and picks up the smaller bottle I
approach him.
"I've always wanted to shave you," he says as he twists the cap off
the vial of orangish liquid.
He
takes a sniff and then holds the vial out so that I can smell it as well.
I check out the label as it moves towards my nose, E-Shave Pre-Shave Almond
Oil (the rhyming title strikes me funny), I take a deep breath and the almond
oil fills my nostrils.
"Sit on the counter," he instructs.
Five seconds ago I would've died if Brian had told me I still wasn't getting
any sleep, but it seems the rich smell of almonds and the sexy look on his
face have me forgetting that I want to fall down dead with exhaustion. Brian
seems to have that power over me.
Now, I've let Brian shave me before, I know he likes it, but I think something
else is going on here.
I jump up on the counter and wiggle back until I'm leaning against the wall.
He pours some of the oil into his hands and starts warming it. Then he reaches
for my crotch and massages it into the hair and skin.
"I want to shave all of you," he looks into my eyes and keeps
rubbing. It makes my gut tingle with desire and excitement, even though my
dick can't will itself to stand up just yet.
"Uh..." It sounds hot – I've thought about doing it myself – but
something about it kinda weirds me out. I don't have much body hair to begin
with and except for his pubes, neither does Brian, and I don't know if I'm
willing to part with the little tuft that makes me feel somewhat manly in
this still-teenage body.
He leans forward, getting very close to my face, "It’ll be hot."
His whisper washes warm over my skin and I know I could hardly deny him a
thing at this moment. “Then you can do me,” he adds and I don’t know why,
but knowing I get to reciprocate changes everything.
"Shave away," I smile as I get comfortable on the counter.
Brian
I don't know what it is, I've just always wanted to shave off all of his pubic
hair and see what his cock looks like totally bare. He's let me trim the hair
down there and even shave his balls, but we've never gone the whole nine yards.
I got this set of great shaving stuff from Sephora. How gay is it that I love
the men's skin care section of the most queened-out store on the planet? But
hey, I like soft skin and expensive shower gel and ridiculously overpriced
eye cream with enzymes collected from some lake in France. And Sephora is
the only place I can get all of that shit. Plus, it's a pretty fucking cool
store. They let you touch everything. And I love touching just about anything.
This pre-shave almond oil is supposed to moisturize your skin and soften your
hair to make it easier to shave. I figure if I'm gonna take it all off, I
should do it right. I also bought him a new razor with a carved bone handle.
He’ll never understand how nice it really is, but I liked visuzalizing the
bone handle against his skin. Then I ended up buying the Cucumber After-Shave
Cooling Cream by the same company (E-Shave, I think - what a shitty name)
because the salesgirl didn't flinch when I told her I was shaving my boyfriend's
pubic hair. She deserved a decent commission for that.
Now Justin sits, leaning back on the mirror, watching me massage almond oil
into the medium-blond hair around his flaccid cock. I kind of smile at the
scene. It turns me on, a lot. It's a control thing, a power thing, I know
that. That's fine, I wanna do it and he's going to let me. And I know he'll
like it. It is still his goddamned birthday so I'm doing shit that I think
will turn him on and make him happy...whatever.
I pull our normal shaving cream out of the cabinet, I didn't buy any new stuff
cause I know this is the only brand he's found that doesn't irritate his skin.
Such a fucking princess...
I glob it on and pick up the gorgeous new razor. I make a show of pulling
it from its decadent little box. His eyes watch every move I make.
When I lower it to his hip and drag the bone handle along his bare skin, he
shudders just a little. We both look up; our gazes meet.
With the brand new, fiercely sharp razor poised just above his slightly quivering
dick, I hesitate for just a moment to think about how this is my kind of celebration.
I guess I could get into birthdays…
8:01 AM
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